


All I Wanna Do (Is Make Love To You)

by reminaissance



Category: Carol (2015) RPF, The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Smut, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-28 00:03:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6305608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reminaissance/pseuds/reminaissance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carol and Therese let off some steam after a long week of work. Or, the one where the thirst is real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Wanna Do (Is Make Love To You)

**Author's Note:**

> Clearly, I don't have much to explain on this one. Though, it took me so far away from what I originally planned I don't even remember what it was. Enjoy!

* * *

With summer came busier hours at work for both Therese and Carol. A full week had passed, towards the beginning of August in which the time they spent in each other's company was reduced to the early hours of the morning and the drained out remains of the night.

Although, it was an entire week (and some days leading to it) where Therese, however tired, felt the excitement of working towards a real goal this time, a promotion that she had now been guaranteed as long as she met a few deadlines and more than one specific project under the supervising of one of the Senior Editors at the Times. This resulted in Therese having to leave the apartment earlier than usual to discuss with Mr. Broderick certain stacks of photographs in order to use or discard before the real frenzy took over every room in the building, then arriving home and spending a couple of hours after dinner to develop photos she considered fitting for the next day in the darkroom Carol had helped her set up at the time of her initially moving in. There would be times when Therese would spend more than two hours, despite the bleariness she could feel weighing down her eyes. Carol would pad into the room and engulf her smaller frame from behind as she whispered into Therese's ear to come to bed. It was a plea Therese could place no resistance against. But it wouldn't be until Carol helped her choose the last of the photographs with a fresh pair of eyes and a distinctive taste, that she would allow herself to be lead out of the room.

Carol on the other hand had begun spending more and more time managing shipments to cities farther and farther away. First outside of New York, then outside of the state. And as furniture began leaving, so had it arrived, creating an almost rhythmic process of shipping and ordering that Carol took a swift control over regardless of its hectic nature. To the point where Carol's boss began conversing about the prospect of opening another store by the end of the year. 

Both women had been busy to say the least. So content, however, with the fulfillment they felt of steadily moving forward as a well deserved result of their hard work. Day after day would build up as their minds took over every task they needed to complete. Yet, in between effervescent conversations and continuous phone calls, photographs being scattered around in a failed attempt at keeping an order, and outgrowing amounts of order processing, a loving thought, as fleeting as the spark that came before a lighted match, of what was to come at the end of the day would hit them with subdued power. A picture of a welcoming hello, a pair of arms happy to embrace the other, a loving kiss; a safe haven. Then Therese would look into the distance, amongst a dozen trivial faces, and Carol would smile to herself, in between pieces of still, cold objects. They would continue to work as if their lives were separate from each other, until night arrived and their energy flowed out and above them and they sleepily fell over an edge in which they met each other halfway, only to be filled up again. Renewed, refueled with a love and a sense of purpose that Carol never failed to find in Therese, and Therese in Carol. 

On that Friday afternoon Therese had an early end at work. She had arrived home and stepped out of her shoes so that she could noiselessly walk across the hallway as she began unbuttoning her blouse. Looking through one of the drawers in their room she found a few flannel shirts she had kept for the sake of comfort. It had been so long, she had practically forgotten she had brought them with her. Therese realized then that Carol had never seen her in one, which ignited a sudden curiosity in her to see how Carol would react to the sight. She put one on, its light blue color edging on a fading gray due to years of use, but the feeling of the soft fabric against her bare skin not yet lost. 

She let it fall past her bare hips while the hem of the shirt hung barely above her mid-thigh. Therese vaguely wondered if it would be pushing it if she were to forgo any sort of pants.

The sound of a door unlocking and being opened startled her before she came up with the quick conclusion that it was too late to decide. There was something about the frantic and flustered action of putting on pants as a reaction to Carol arriving home that made Therese think of an embarrassment and a lack of desire to be seen that simply did not exist between them. It gave her an odd sense of discomfort at the thought of  _hiding_ a part of herself from Carol. Still, it was mostly her mischief which fully set her conviction that it was too late to put on any pants whatsoever. 

Her bare feet guided her back towards the hallway at the same time that Carol called out to her.

"Darling, where are you?"

She came to a halt the moment Therese came in full view through the door frame leading to their bedroom. Carol's piercing gaze deliberately followed a trail from Therese's feet, traveling through her bare calves and all the way up to her smooth thighs that were scarcely―and teasingly so―being covered by her flannel shirt. She looked at Therese with a spark that grew brighter with each attempt she made to hide her delighted smile. 

"Just where on earth did you keep that hidden?" Carol asked. She had meant the shirt, but she remained gaping at her legs.

"You don't like it?" Therese feigned ignorance.

Carol began approaching her with a yearning reflected in her eyes. Gray tweed trousers flapped lightly with every step she took.

"I can take it off if you don't." Therese added.

"Oh hell don't." In two last languid moves she grounded Therese on her spot. Her arm snaking around a familiar waist. "If anything that'll be _my_ job." She said determinedly.

Therese grinned. The remains of the accumulated week's exhaustion fled out of her the moment she let herself finally be held.

She had also successfully predicted the reaction she was going to draw out of Carol with what she was―and wasn't― wearing. However, the lust that had possessed and emanated from her lover was one she had often seen in more subtle manners. With the way she gripped her waist with a single arm and pinned her down with a single look. As well as the way in which Carol abruptly kissed her without reserve, with an enduring love for Therese which held the absolute freedom to morph into tenderness, playfulness, or a fiery passion. All of it with such an easiness it made Therese feel lightheaded and constantly overwhelmed by the fact that it was  _her,_ her body and her mind, that ignited these unyielding reactions off of a woman like Carol. And it was the subtle power, with which she engulfed her completely that made Therese feel newly lightheaded for a different reason. 

Ever since that first night of consummation and over and over again like the untiring rise and fall of the sea, Therese's body's reaction to Carol's touch stood far beyond any form of control Therese could ever muster.

It was in the way she was being kissed, in the middle of the hallway and with an unhurried passion that caused every single one of her senses to immerse themselves into the body fully pressed against her.

And as Carol continued to kiss her, Therese felt as a pair of hands tucked under her shirt and pressed firmly on the skin of her lower back. A fleeting thought occurred to her then, as she hooked her arms around the neck of the taller woman pulling her impossibly closer. Just how enthralling it was, the amount of ways in which desire could manifest itself. With an ardent flicker in the eyes and the lavishing of kisses, with the scratching of nails and the desperate touch mere fingertips could convey, and always that incessant pull from an abiding need for closeness. 

Hands roamed over her skin while her own tucked at Carol's hair behind her neck, an urge growing inside of her that craved to find release in other ways. Suddenly, in a quick shift of movements that made Therese open her eyes and squeal in surprise, Carol's hands had followed a smooth trail down her back, past her ass and onto the back of her thighs. In seconds, she had lifted her off the floor and guided her naked legs to wrap around her waist without much more than a fleeting break between their lips. And as Carol pressed her fully against the wall with just the right amount of strength, a new wave of heat roused Therese's entire body.

She took not much longer after that to tilt her head for a last languid kiss before breaking off and pulling her head a few inches back. Carol's breathing came out in short puffs and her pupils had dilated. Yet, not far beneath it, Therese saw something that was more than just arousal. It appeared to be a certain reverence, a connection that shook Therese's deepest inner grounds, and a complete openness behind Carol's eyes that stole the air in her lungs and made her wonder if that was what people wrote songs, and poems, and books about. If that was what people described as being utterly vulnerable.

"Take me to bed." She finally breathed.

And just as in Waterloo, Carol silently complied. With her hands securely placed under Therese's thighs and her lips peppering kisses across her face, she walked them into their room. Therese hit the mattress softly but prevented Carol from following her when she sat back on the edge and undid the pants before her with dexterity. She pulled them down slowly, reveling in every new inch of smooth skin she uncovered, following the path first with her gaze, and no long after, with her lips. She felt Carol shudder beneath her touch and was vaguely unsure if the hand that had fled to her hair was Carol's attempt to keep herself standing or a need to guide Therese someplace else. Regardless of the answer, she took an exquisite time in kissing her thighs, in sensually crawling her hands back up her body and in discarding Carol's shirt and brassiere almost at once.

Carol followed swiftly. No longer able to keep the steady pace they had formed, she hungrily chased after Therese's lips once more as she blindly unbuttoned her shirt. Once they stood bare, their pull towards each other became the biggest inevitability. Therese pulled Carol to bed before allowing her hips to be straddled by a pair of strong legs. Nothing else existed in that moment. Hands roamed, rediscovering and revisiting the places they knew the other loved. Their breathing shortened and their pulse heightened. Carol found her center first, with the familiar sensation of being home and the undying desire to bring the sweetest of pleasures to the woman laying beneath her.

Feeling, _craving_ Therese's release all at once she looked directly into dark green eyes.

" _Inside."_ Therese panted.

After so many nights, so many mornings; after so many times since the first time Therese lay anxiously anticipating a moment she had heard of being almost clinically painful, she had wanted it, over and over again. She could only explain it as an indescribable physical pleasure of plenitude, warm and sensitive. A pleasure that Carol fully knew how to give her, with her mouth, with her hands; with her fingers inside her, outside of her, circling her and touching places that made her moan loudly and kiss her harder.

And what gave her just as much ecstasy was to think of the inherent concept that it was Carol, and only Carol, with whom she had chosen to build this kind of connection. Different each time, slow, reverent and profound some days; erratic in others, bare of everything but the intrinsic, almost animalistic and erotic desire that pulsed through their veins, neither Carol nor Therese could ever define it as anything other than making love.

* * *

  
Late afternoon turned into late evening.

They had forgone dinner altogether, but Carol had insisted on at least making a snack she could bring to the room. Therese took the time to bring the few rolls she needed to reveal over the weekend into the darkroom. She had gone back to putting on panties as well as the shirt that had started it all, if only for the main purpose of covering herself from the light coolness of the apartment.

A tray with the biscuits and jam that Carol had bought the day before now lay in the middle of the bed. Therese sat by the edge with her legs crossed while Carol rested her back against the head of the bed, her legs folded to the side.

They shared a brief conversation about their days, neither one of them too keen on focusing any more of their attention on things they had spent a whole week thinking about. 

"What would you like to do this weekend?" Carol suddenly asked.

Therese tried to find an answer as she finished chewing the last piece of her biscuit. She savored the rich flavor of the blueberry jam and the softness of the bread. An idea came to her mind then, however odd it was to think of what it reminded her of. An entirely different life from the one she had now. 

"Would you like to go to the movies?"

Carol took in the proposal pleasantly. She could not remember when had been the last time she had gone to the cinema for the mere purpose of having a good time. Then she asked herself how it had not occurred to her to go with Therese before.

"I would very much like to go, actually."

"We could go tomorrow then. I would like to get the photos done first, though. So maybe in the evening?"

Carol hummed. "Sounds perfect, love."

She reached for her cup of tea, took a sip and placed it on the nightstand before she stood up and made for the mostly empty tray. "Any more, darling?"

Therese shook her head, thanking her. As Carol took it off the bed she placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Be right back." She murmured.

The silent mutual decision that they would not be leaving the room for the remaining of the night had been reached.

Carol made her way out, swaying her hips in the innate manner she always did and something that Therese found utterly attractive, knowing that Carol did it for no one to watch, but rather because the essence of it existed within her. She remained indulging in the view of the woman who had just left the room, wearing nothing but a white silk robe. It was the one garment Carol had been ready to get rid of because it had been an anniversary present from Harge, although Therese had convinced her to keep it for perhaps the most self-indulgent of reasons. But how could she be blamed, if the robe's sleek fabric flowed with every movement of Carol's body as weightlessly as feathers; as smoothly as water through a riverbank. How could she, if the mere sight of every one of her womanly curves was perfectly accentuated. If the mere knowledge that her naked skin lay beneath it was enough to send Therese overboard and that with the simplest of tugs at the cord she would be able to reveal its magnificence, just as the red drapes in a theater revealed a world far beyond this one. 

How could Therese be blamed then, if Carol was a woman in all her glory.

Moreover, she realized that beneath this irrefutable statement, there lay the basic truth that she was attracted to the female figure. Despite the common sensation that this was more of a simple repercussion to the fact that Carol happened to be a woman. But she could not lie entirely. Because there was something inherently aesthetic about the female body that would draw Therese in time and again as she grew up, but which she attributed more often than not to the predictable explanation of having an artistic eye and a passion for photography.

It never occurred to her, however, that the sometimes thrilling fascination she felt towards other women could mean anything other than innocuous admiration. Because how could Therese have ever contemplated the possibility of it, if the world she lived in had never presented it as an option to begin with. An idea which she still found utterly perplexing.

For how could one ever be so unfazed by something as natural as a connection with another human being. 

Once again lost in the essence of her reverie, Therese did not break from it until Carol's figure reappeared at the door.

Aware of the distracted look in her eyes, Carol asked. "Are you okay, baby?"

Therese smiled at the word. It came out scarcely, given that Carol tended to call her 'darling' or 'love'. But she had a feeling that was one of the reasons she loved it so much.

She looked at the woman still standing by the entrance of the room. Blonde curls delicately framed Carol's face, her hand was easily placed on the frame and her right foot was slightly lifted, with only her toes touching the floor. The hems of the robe formed a V across her chest, revealing enough cleavage to be provocative without disclosing anything.

It was with that image that Therese was simultaneously hit by an idea, widening her eyes in the process.

"What?" Carol insisted, utterly confused.

"Hold on a minute."

She flew out of the bed and past the bewildered woman. The camera awaited in the darkroom, and as Therese snatched it from the desk and ran back out, it left her little to no time to understand what or why she had such strong resolution of going through with her idea. That is, unless Carol asked her not to. A tentativeness caught up to her then, unsure of how to proceed. How was she supposed to ask Carol if she could take pictures of her wearing nothing but a silk robe?

By then Carol had moved farther into the room awaiting for an explanation as to why Therese had only been staring at her for the past couple of minutes, and was starting to run back and forth like a madwoman.

"I won't ask again." She said. Thankfully, Therese knew the tones of her voice well enough to know this was still an empty threat. 

Still, Therese had no need to voice it. Carol realized it as soon as she saw the camera she held in her hand. She narrowed her eyes, before she silently urged Therese to say something with a raise of her sculpted eyebrow. 

"Do you think I could?" Therese asked, making a move to show her the camera. It came out so poorly she was sure she was about to feel her cheeks flush in embarrassment. 

"Could what?" Carol husked. She knew now exactly what it was that Therese wanted to do, as well as the answer she wished to give, but she had every intention of not giving it to Therese until she fully expressed it.

Observing the confident expectation in Carol she found it truly absurd that she should be embarrassed to ask. Time and again in the past she had used her as the focal point of her lenses, whether it happened to be candid or not. She could not think of how this could be any different.

"I want to take pictures of you." She said resolutely. "Just as you're dressed right now." 

And like magic, her words awoke something in Carol that Therese would have missed if she had not been looking directly into her eyes. A kind of fervent glimmer behind the clear blue of her irises that quickly dissipated in order to manifest itself again with every sensuous step she took towards Therese. Without a stop, she held her gaze while her unwavering hands began drawing the hems of the robe's collar away from each other, excruciatingly slow, revealing inch after inch of skin. Therese caught her breath as a pair of manicured hands came to a halt just as they had begun to reveal the defined curves underneath Carol's breasts. Fingertips resumed their movement, no longer pulling at anything, and with a languid pace that was intoxicating to watch. They stroked the bare skin on Carol's chest, then moved to the fabric. All being done with enough pressure that when they brushed past her nipples they hardened and became visible to Therese's fixated eyes. 

Incredibly aroused and with a difficulty to breathe normally, it took Therese a grandiose effort to lift her camera and snap the first photograph. 

The moment Therese lowered the camera Carol approached her and kissed her once, softly lingering. 

"Where do you want me?" Carol breathed in her ear.


End file.
